


Mama I'm In Love With A Criminal

by Annie6211



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Action, Drama, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie6211/pseuds/Annie6211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Coulson is tasked with the mission of finding and capturing infamous assassin Hawkeye. Phil Coulson and Clint Barton meet at a coffee shop and realize how much they like each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_2012_ **

"Hey Legolas. Now that I know the reason you're not into your redheaded partner, I gotta ask it. How in the hell did you convince Stone Cold Coulson to date you?" Tony questioned, plopping down on the couch next to his friend.

"I did wonder about that…" Steve said from his other side. Thor nodded his agreement from across from them and even Bruce looked up from his experiment. Clint spared them all an amused look, opening his mouth, he prepared to speak.

"You don't have a high enough classification for that information Stark." Phil entered the room, startling everyone, but not surprising Clint in the slightest.

"What?" Tony shook his head, "That's stupid." Natasha entered the room, shrugging.

"Even I don't know that story Stark. And I'm almost triple your classification level." She eyed Phil. "Although I am curious…" she trailed off suggestively. Phil shook his head.

"No such luck!" Clint chirped for him. Tony shrugged.

"Jarvis, do me a favor-"

"Fine Stark. We will tell you an abbreviated version of the story." Phil cut him off with an efficiency that was well practiced. Clint raised an eyebrow.

"Really, the whole story?" Phil stared at him for a moment.

"So long as it's okay with you." He said softly. Clint shrugged.

"I don't care. I'm good now…so, it's fine." He declared, then with a clap, he leaned forward, getting in story teller mode. "So, it all started on a dark and dreary night about ten years ago…"

"It wasn't really dark and dreary."

"Shut up Phil. I'm telling it!"

* * *

**_2002_ **

"Agent Coulson, thank you for coming." Coulson nodded, sitting down across from his superior. Fury flipped through his paperwork, before sliding some of it across the table. "I have a mission for you."

"I figured." Coulson said dryly. He flipped through the papers, eyes widening just the slightest bit. "Really Director? You think this would be a good case for me?" he questioned honestly and Fury snorted.

"Yes. I think you're the only man for the job. Sitwell, Hill, and many others have all attempted and failed this mission. I apparently have to turn to my best man for the job." Fury leaned back in his seat, "You've only been in this yet unnamed agency for a few years and already you're the only one I can guarantee to get the job done." Coulson nodded, not in an arrogant way, but recognizing the truth in his statement.

"I'll try my best." He stood, flipping the file closed to look at later. Fury nodded back to him. Coulson waited.

"That is all I ask." Fury dismissed him with a wave to the door.

* * *

As Coulson exited Fury's office, Hill caught up to him. She gave him a slight smile. "So, Director Fury told you the news I assume?" Coulson nodded. She shook her head. "Good luck. I attempted to catch him with no success." Hill shook her head, "He is not only the best hitman, but he leaves blatant hints as to where he has gone and what he is doing at all times. The arrows through the heart of his victims leave a bloody, obvious trail. Yet, he is always able to slip away." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just a warning, expect tricks from him. He is a horrible, sneaky trickster." Coulson raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm sure he's not that bad, excluding the killing. I think you may have a bias." Coulson pointed out, obviously slightly amused. Hill narrowed her eyes at him.

"Fine. Don't believe me. When you try and track him down, you'll see." She swore, "I don't think that anyone will ever be able to catch Hawkeye."

* * *

"Venti black coffee." Phil tossed the man a ten, leaving him the change. Sitting down in the same chair he always sat in, he waited. It was just a matter of time.

He didn't fail.

The grin sent his way made Phil smirk into his coffee cup and when the other male slid into the chair opposite of him, he gave him a small nod.

"So. How was work?" Clint asked conversationally, sipping on his latte. Phil was an art curator at the local museum, although he never seemed to be there when Clint tried to find him. Phil nodded.

"Good. As interesting as staring at old paintings all day could be." Phil raised an eyebrow, "And you?" Clint worked as a TV producer for some trashy reality show. Clint snickered.

"It wasn't his baby!" he gasped fakely and Phil shook his head, chuckling. They sipped their coffee in silence for a few moments. Clint took a deep breath.

"You know what Phil? I think we should go out." Clint finally said, then continued as he realized how that sounded, "I mean, we meet here after work every day, and we have for months now. We should go somewhere else to hang out. How about we go to dinner?" Clint almost hit himself as he realized, again, how that sounded.

"Okay." Phil said, blasé, before Clint could correct himself. Clint's eyes widened hopefully. He opened his mouth, "Like a date." Phil clarified before he could ask and Clint's grin widened even more.

"Cool." Clint stood, tossing out his empty coffee cup. "So…tomorrow night?" he questioned eagerly. Phil hesitated. His job always called for him to take random hours…but he would try to make it.

"Yes. At Sardi's." Phil stood, also tossing out his trash. "Six o'clock." They stared at each other for a few moments, before Clint grinned, and Phil gave him half smile.

With that, they exited the coffee shop, eager for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

_He is a hustler, he's no good at all_   
_He is a loser, he's a bum, bum, bum, bum_   
_He lies, he bluffs, he's unreliable_   
_He is a sucker with a gun, gun, gun, gun_

Hawkeye silently stalked his pray. After watching for a long while and choosing the best time to complete the hit, he had decided that exactly 5:30 P.M. was the perfect time. Of course, it would cause him to have to cancel some other  _more important_ things, but the man who had requested the hit was getting impatient. This was the only time the hit was alone.

If he came at any other time, the man's wife or son would be home.

Not that he cared of course. He was a stone cold assassin. He could just as easily kill the man at any other time. It was just a coincidence that he happened to be in Boston at this time. Even though it was a very bad time for him to be five hours away from New York City.

Hawkeye shook his head, clearing his thoughts. With a silent crouch, he drew his string back and fired his bow.

* * *

Coulson was very upset. He was going to be late. Very very late. It was five thirty and he was currently in Boston, five hours away. He was sure he wasn't going to make it at all. He shook his head. Oh well. Work came first.

He had watched the man work, eyes analyzing every move. He noted how he specifically waited until the man had no family around. That didn't stop him from firing the bow and killing the semi-innocent man who hadn't paid some drug debts.

Coulson struck.

Climbing up the side of the building, Coulson met the man's back, knocking the bow out of his hand. Hawkeye spun around and both men prepared themselves for hand to hand combat.

They both froze.

"So. An art curator, huh?"

"TV producer Mr. Barton?"

They stared icily at each other for a few moments, before Hawkeye eased a bit. He mentally relaxed himself. When Coulson saw this, he did the same, at least physically. His mind was still racing.

"You know you're going to be late for our date, right?" he questioned easily. Coulson bristled.

"What date?" he questioned, pulling his gun from its holster. Hawkeye smirked, easily stepping towards him. He paused as Coulson moved his finger to the trigger. He was physically prepared to shoot, but he wasn't sure if he would actually go through with it if it was necessary. It was an unsettling, unfamiliar feeling, and Coulson didn't like it. Hill's warning slipped through his mind.

_Just a warning, expect tricks from him._

Before Hawkeye could move any closer, Coulson froze him with words.

"So…it was a trick huh? How did you manage to find out that I would be on your case? You've been planning this for months then?" Coulson questioned, keeping his voice as dry as usual, but simmering with anger and hurt on the inside. He almost believed Hawkeye when he gaped at him.

"What do you mean?" Hawkeye finally managed after a few moments. Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you do your research, congratulations. You learned that I was high in my agency and you guessed that I would get your case eventually. So, you found me and decided to try and get me to fall in love with you so I would-"

"Fall in love with me?!" Hawkeye blurted, eyes glinting in a way Coulson couldn't decipher. He tensed as the implication of what he said hit.

"I'm not saying you were successful in your mission." Coulson assured him, "I'm not some teenager who falls in love easily. Especially with virtual strangers, luckily enough you didn't think to invite me out before this point." Coulson lifted the gun, resolve strengthening. Hawkeye frowned at him, looking actually hurt. He was either being honest or a truly amazing actor.

"You actually think I'd do that?" Hawkeye's voice was filled with such sadness that Coulson automatically lowered his gun.

That was a mistake.

Hawkeye threw one hard shoulder into Coulson's stomach and by the time Coulson had straightened, Hawkeye was gone.

* * *

"I hope you are beginning to see what I mean Agent Coulson."

He didn't physically react to Hill's sudden appearance, but he mentally shook his head. He really did not want to deal with her smugness right now.

"It was my first run-in Agent Hill. I assure you Hawkeye will not escape me again." Coulson infused as much ice in his voice as he could and he knew Hill sensed it. She snorted, used to him and any slight shifts in his mood.

"That is the same thing I said after the first contact." Hill nodded, "You won't see him again. He shows you his face just to taunt you and get you devoted to the case. Then he leaves little clues. Enough to keep you on his trail, but never to catch him. An arrow here, a glimpse of his silhouette there, so you won't give up for a little while. He buys time for himself before he has to start the mind tricks all over again."

"Why did you give up?" Coulson questioned. Hill shrugged.

"Fury took me off the case. I would have kept going forever, never to catch him if Fury hadn't pulled me. It was a wise move on his part." She admitted, and Coulson nodded slowly, thinking.

"So, he distracted you, purposefully, and tricked you into stopping others from catching him?" Coulson asked deliberately. Hill paused, thinking it over for a moment.

"More or less. Yes. That is exactly what he did."

Coulson nodded slowly.

Interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

_I know you told me I should stay away_  
I know you said he's just a dog astray  
He is a bad boy with a tainted heart  
And even I know this ain't smart

Hawkeye silently assured himself that the only reason he had refused the last few hits was because his body needed a break. It wasn't because he was trying to avoid the agent on his case for any particular reason. It wasn't because his heart and mind both raced whenever they saw said agent.

He almost had himself completely convinced of this when an old friend popped up, noticing his lack of kills in the last two weeks.

"So, what is it that is wrong?" the Black Widow sauntered into his hotel room, having silently picked the lock. It was only a lifetime of knowing her that stopped Hawkeye from jumping at her sudden appearance.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He dismissed her. She stretched across his bed, staring at him, waiting. She knew he would crack. He always did when something was bothering him. This time, however, he managed to hold out a bit longer than she expected.

"Hawkeye," she stated, and resumed staring. He avoided her gaze, picking at his nails nervously. They waited.

The dam broke.

"I am in so much trouble widow." Hawkeye confessed, "I didn't realize- I don't- I didn't-"

"Hawkeye." She cut him off, "Clear sentences." She instructed calmly. Hawkeye sighed, leaning over and putting his head in his hands. She narrowed her eyes, leaning up to a sitting position.

"What?" she asked softly. Hawkeye sighed again.

"I may have… _feelings_ toward an agent on my tail. Attempting to put me in jail." Hawkeye admitted slowly. Widow just stared at him, shaking her head. When she approached, then hit him upside the head, muttering Russian curses, he decided he totally deserved it. After a few more mutters, she sighed.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" she questioned frankly. He blinked.

"What?" She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"One way or another, you're going to have to get through this. You could forget about this person and destroy those  _feelings_ , the obvious option. Or you could pursue this person, and risk your life. Make a choice." She raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Hawkeye bit his lip. He slowly raked his eyes up her body to her face, and then he grinned guiltily.

"Oh!" Widow spun around, shaking her head. "You are an idiot!" she declared, "Good luck in jail or dead or  _worse_." She called over her shoulder, stalking out of the room.

Hawkeye sighed, plopping face down onto his bed.

He had to at least try.

* * *

Nothing. Two weeks and nothing. No more telltale arrows sticking out of bodies. No sightings. Nothing. It threw everyone off. Hawkeye didn't take breaks. It just was not in his nature. So, of course Hill turned to Coulson for his point of view.

"Why is Hawkeye just gone?" Hill slammed Coulson's door closed, She dropped into the seat across from his desk.

"I don't know why Agent Hill. If anyone should know, shouldn't it be you? You were on his case the longest." Coulson pointed out, not even looking up from his paperwork.

"Did you say something to him? We should have put a wire on you when you went solo to confront him…" she mused. Coulson tensed slightly, just thinking of what they would have heard. "As is, we could barely see you two. Nonetheless, did Hawkeye say  _anything_ that would seem out of the ordinary to you?"

Phil shrugged. Yeah, Hawkeye did. He said that he was Clint Barton and that was out of the ordinary enough for him. But he wasn't going to tell Maria that. They already knew his face, after all. They really didn't need his name. Coulson frowned. He did not like how he had managed to rationalize withholding information from his superiors. Because, for all her unprofessionalism, Hill still was directly below Director Fury in their unnamed, new little organization.

"I can't help but feel as if we are missing something very obvious." Hill's eyes narrowed, "If you can think of anything Agent Coulson, feel free to come to me anytime."

And with that ominous, half-threatening warning, Hill laughed him alone once again. Coulson's frown deepened. He needed to think, and thinking while at work would just bias his decision. He needed to leave.

* * *

Phil didn't know what had possessed him to go back to the coffee shop.  _Their_ coffee shop. Perhaps it because he knew that he would not run the risk of seeing Clint Barton again. He still hadn't decided how he felt on this whole matter. He still had to think, not that this particular coffee shop would not bring him a biased point of view as the memories rolled in. He ignored them however, and decided he would look at the pros and cons of both sides, his job vs. this interesting man he had yet to understand.

And as he sipped on his coffee, that was exactly what he planned on doing, until, of course, he showed up.

"Hello Agent Phil Coulson." Clint sung, plopping into his usual seat across from him. Phil tensed, not that in was perceptible. He refused to show weakness for Clint to later exploit.

" _Hawkeye_."

Clint raised an eyebrow as he heard the telltale click of a handgun being set. If anything, it made him relax more. This bothered Phil.

"Come on now Phil…you had to know that I had no idea that you were the agent on my case. Hell! I didn't even know you were an agent! How do you know so much about art if you aren't an art curator?" Clint questioned honestly. Phil leaned back, hand still tensed on his gun. His gun underneath the table, so as to not scare the other patrons of the coffee shop.

"I've always been interested in art. I probably would have been an art curator if I didn't have talents more suited for pursuing  _criminals_." Phil said, eyes narrow. Clint nodded, pursuing his lips. It continued to bother Phil just how little the fact that a gun was pointed at his stomach bothered Clint.

"I love archery. I think I would be some sort of professional archer if I wasn't an assassin. Of course, I was a circus archer before this point…but that went bad." Phil noted the shadow that passed over his eyes when he said this.

"What happened?" he asked warily. Clint's gaze snapped to him, eyes narrowing. Phil was idly glad that it finally seemed to register with him that he was talking to the person trying to put him in jail, but he was also annoyed that it just seemed to hit him now, when Phil really wanted to know the answer to his question. "Clint." He said softly, imploringly. Clint sighed.

"Long story short, my brother and one of his…friends, I guess, decided that I wouldn't be cool with some crime they were doing and decided to get rid of me before I could nark on them." Clint snorted. "Ironic, isn't it? They were just doing some petty robbery crimes and crap, and here I am killing people for money."

Phil leaned forward, snagging his hand on the top of the table. His hand holding the gun loosened dangerously. Clint's eyes snapped to his once again. They stared at each other.

And Clint leaned forward, over the table, and connected their lips together.

The gun clattered to the floor.

And Phil knew he was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it bothering anyone the switches between Hawkeye/Clint and Coulson/Phil? If it is, I'll stop.


	4. Chapter 4

_But mama I'm in love with a criminal_   
_And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical_   
_Mama please don't cry, I will be alright_   
_All reason aside I just can't deny, love the guy_

Hawkeye crouched low in the fire escape. In the back of his mind, a buzzing alerted him that he was being watched. Eyes easily sweeping over the landscape, he spotted the eyes immediately. A smirk lit up his face.

Agent Coulson.

He wasn't yet certain how to feel about Agent Coulson, but he knew how he felt about Phil Coulson. He didn't know what to do with his feelings though. His smirk started to fall as he thought more. As much as he would love to believe Phil would give up his job for him, he knew that it wouldn't be that simple.

Hawkeye tightened his grip on his bow, attention back on his target, but peripheral vision on Agent Coulson. After a few moments, he released an arrow, straight through the heart of the hit. He moved his bow down, attention solely focused on Coulson. The man approached and he tensed.

Phil and Clint may have had a wonderful meeting, but he had no such hopes for Agent Coulson and Hawkeye. Panic ran through him and he fought down the instant flight or fight response. If he ran, it would show weakness. If he fought…he didn't want to fight him, and that made him feel weak.

"He was a volunteer firefighter. He had saved tons of lives." Hawkeye growled, backing up as far as he could in the fire escape. Looking down at the agent, he shook his head.

"I don't care." He declared stubbornly. Coulson tilted his head, crossing his arms.

"You don't care, or you don't want to know?" he questioned. Hawkeye's brow furrowed.

"What's the difference?" he asked, already knowing he would regret asking.

"If you don't care, then you're the heartless killer that you're pretending to be. If you just don't want to know, then that means that you can stand the thought of killing good people. It means you can be redeemed." Coulson said. Hawkeye shook his head, snorting.

"Please. Who says I want redemption?" he taunted. Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"I do. I say you want redemption. Clint…"

"Don't!" he snapped, warning him. If he started mixing work and pleasure, then he wouldn't be able to distinguish the two. He needed to keep his lives separate. He needed to be Hawkeye  _and_ Clint Barton. Not Clint Barton, Hawkeye.

"Clint-"

Hawkeye moved quickly up the fire escape, and disappeared on the roof top. Coulson didn't try and follow him.

* * *

"Two times Coulson!  _Two times!_  How the hell do you come in contact with this guy  _twice_ and he manages to slip away  _both_ times?!" Let it be said that hell hath no fury like a Fury scorned. Instead of saying this and bringing even more anger down on himself, Coulson merely blinked calmly.

"Director, if I may, Cl- Hawkeye is slippery. He can easily escape." Coulson swallowed tightly, cursing in his head. No. Fury could not have caught that. He couldn't have. Agent Hill looked at him with curious eyes, but that didn't mean anything. She probably didn't catch it. Which means the Fury didn't catch it. Fury  _could not have caught his **stupid** slip up._

The narrowed eye in his direction told him that he wasn't so lucky. "Coulson…who is it that is slippery?" Fury questioned. Coulson raised an eyebrow, keeping his breath calm and even with a great amount of control.

"Hawkeye, sir."

"Agent Coulson, you have been a loyal, trustworthy agent for a long time. Why would-" Fury seamlessly cut Hill off.

"Agent Hill, you are dismissed." He didn't take his eyes off of Coulson, but he could probably feel the incredulous glare from Agent Hill. After a few moments, she tensely nodded and exited the room.

Coulson waited, the epitome of calm on the outside, the epitome of panic on the inside. Fury stared at him, analyzing him. Fury sighed, plopping down into the chair behind his desk. Coulson stood still, silent.

"Phil. What is going on with you?" The walls dropped and they were no longer Director Fury and Agent Coulson, a boss and his employee. They were close friends Nick and Phil. Phil sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Nick…I…I'm in trouble. I…" Phil trailed off, releasing a deep breath. Nick waited.

"Phil…" he prompted after a few moments. Phil thought it over and decided. He could not deny it anymore.

"I'm in love with Hawkeye."

* * *

Hawkeye threw the bow onto his hotel room bed, pacing in tight squares. He cracked his neck, and groaned. He was in so much trouble.

"So, your wooing attempts turned out that well then?"

This time he didn't even jump when she dropped from the ceiling air vent. He just shook his head. Black Widow watched him pace for a few moments.

"Explain to me Hawkeye, what is it?" It wasn't a well formed question, but Hawkeye understood in nonetheless.

"He…he is  _different_. He's  _special_. I…I know that it is stupid, but I feel like I can trust him." At that confession, the Black Widow's face became alarmed.

"Clint-" They were no longer Hawkeye and the Black Widow, occasionally allied assassins. They were friends Clint and Natasha. "-no. You can't trust him. He is the government. You need to give up this  _stupid_  conquest-"

"He's not a conquest!" Clint snapped, stopping his pacing to glare at her. Natasha narrowed her eyes at him, before sighing.

"Clint?" she questioned, leaving the question up to his interpretation. Clint swallowed hard. He closed his eyes, memories of coffee shops and conversations running through his head. He had no other excuses for his actions. There was only one excuse.

"I'm in love with this Agent."


	5. Chapter 5

_He is a villain by the devil's law_

_He is a killer just for fun, fun, fun, fun_

_That man's a snitch and unpredictable_

_He's got no conscience, he got none, none, none, none_

Phil recognized his mistake the instant he shared. He saw the brief hint of shock on Nick's face, before suddenly Director Fury took over.

"What the hell are you thinking?! You know who this man is then, obviously! We only have sketches of this  _criminal_. Give us a name!" Fury grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. Phil took a deep calming breath.

"Sir-"

"No!" Fury cut him off, releasing his shoulders, "The only reason, the  _only reason_ , I have not called Hill back in here to help me take you down to jail is because you have been my most loyal right hand man for years. Don't you dare pull shit like this Coulson.  _What is Hawkeye's name_?" Fury said slowly, deliberately. Phil swallowed, shutting his eyes for a few moments.

"His name is Clint Barton, sir."

Fury stared at him for a few seconds, mask unreadable.

"Good. Now, you're off the case. There is a Italian drug lord making assassination threats against the president." Fury waved him away. "Get out of my sight. Before I decide on a punishment."

* * *

Clint recognized his mistake the instant he shared. Natasha's face hardened and she was once again the Black Widow.

"You! You are a fool! Love is for children!" she shook her head, muttering something Clint didn't catch in Russian. "This insane  _crush_ is going to get you killed, perhaps not even by the agent himself!" Clint's eyes narrowed, and he stood.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he questioned dangerously. Black Widow shook her head.

"You seem to be under the impression that the men who clamor for your  _services_ are honest, moral men. You think that they will not take action against a hitman because he no longer is in their service?" he knew these were rhetorically questions, and he swallowed hard. "Exactly." She nodded, recognizing the fear in his eyes. She shook her head. "I am done Hawkeye. I will no longer associate myself with you. I have more self-preservation then I do friendship to you." Clint shut his eyes, not watching as she left the room.

He did not know what to do. His life (the one he wasn't even sure he liked to begin with) was crumbling down around him and he didn't even have any control over it.

* * *

Phil blinked blearily. Looking at his clock, he raised a curious eyebrow. 11:48 P.M. Who would be knocking this late at night? Throwing his legs over the side of his bed, he pulled himself to his feet and to his apartment door.

The minute he opened the door, arms were thrown around his neck and lips attached themselves to the bottom of his chin.

"Waaah…" Phil's half-formed question stopped as he realized just who this was. "Clint?" he muttered. Clint gently pushed him forward, kicking the door shut behind him. His fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, and Phil grabbed his hands. "Clint." He repeated more firmly.

"Shut up." The other man begged, but Phil tightened his hold on his arms.

"I need to take you in." Clint's eyes widened, and he struggled fruitlessly against the other man. He paused after a few moments, eyes hardening.

"I should have known. You claim that I was the one who tracked  _you_ down and tricked  _you._ " Clint snorted, "That's ironic." Phil's eyes narrowed.

"I cannot help it if I have a duty to my country. You are a killer  _Hawkeye_. The sooner you are no longer at large, the better. SHIELD has your name, your picture, and all information about you now. Even if I don't take you in now, it's only a matter of time before someone else does."  _Coulson_ stated. Clint stared at him, shaking his head.

"You…you just-" he cut himself off, twisting around until Coulson was forced to release his wrists. "You can't do this to me!" he shouted, and Coulson leaned backwards, but did not flinch. "I have given up everything for you! And it's  _stupid_! I know how stupid it is!" he shook his head. Coulson's face stayed a stoic mask.

"Given up what? Killing innocent people?" Clint bristled, but  _Phil_  continued before he could object. "You think that you're the only one that had to give up things? I just told my superior that I knew who you were, and I am now on a thin line between losing my job, and going to jail Clint. I need to bring you in now, because after tomorrow, I'm no longer on the Hawkeye case and my  _mistake_ will make me lose, not only my superior, but a close friend's trust. I will never come back from this if I don't-" Clint cut him off, scowling darkly.

"You think you're the only one who lost a friend's trust?" he snapped, then it seemed as if the entirety of Phil's little speech hit him. His eyes widened and he shook his head, stumbling a few more steps back. "Did you tell them who I was?" he hissed. Phil shut his eyes slowly. Clint make a broken noise in the back of his throat.

Phil's eyes snapped open as the door slammed shut, and he had a fleeting thought to go after him, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that Hawkeye knew how to run from the law.

Phil also knew that he would never be allowed to call him Clint Barton ever again. He had lost that trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R & R. Some of you were worried/angry. How about an explanation? The reason I mentioned love (and I tried to keep this obvious, but apparently failed) is because in my head, Phil and Clint have been meeting at the coffee shop for many months. They already knew each other before they knew of Agent Coulson and Hawkeye. And as for Fury having problems with Coulson's loyalty, don't worry, there is a reason that I cut off directly after Coulson's confession.  
> P.S. The editing on archiveofourown was being an annoying little bitch and no matter what I did, I could not get the cuts between the parts of the chapter. Sorry for the seemingly random jumps. Blame the stupid site....


	6. Chapter 6

_Oh-aaall I know, should've let go, but no_

_'Cause he is a bad boy with a tainted heart  
And even I know this ain't smart_

"So, what happened with Director Fury yesterday?" Coulson's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. He didn't turn to the door, where he knew Hill was leaning against the threshold. He continued to pack the items from his office that he would need for Italy.

"I got reassigned." Hill's eyebrows shot up.

"Why?" she asked. He slowed in his packing, taking a deep breath. With that, he turned to her, still looking at the floor.

"I've been compromised."

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned off the threshold, walking carefully up to his desk.

"Phil…?" she asked softly. He sighed, turning his gaze up to her.

"Maria…I know…Hawkeye, very well. For the last seven, eight months, I've been meeting him after work at a coffee shop." At seeing her expression, he continued, "I didn't know that he was Hawkeye from the very beginning." He rushed to assure her when he saw her eyes narrowing dangerously, "I just figured that out a couple of days ago, but…"

"By then it was too late." She finished, sensing where this conversation was going. She had known Phil for a long time. They were at the very least friends, if not best friends. She frowned, rubbing his back, but pulling away when he gave her a dry look, obviously conveying that he wasn't about to burst into tears. "I'm sorry. I don't see any other way for this to go Phil. It's for the best that you're off the case then." She pointed out.

"Yeah." He agreed, shaking his head. "I just…" he hummed. Maria tilted her head.

"You really like this…Hawkeye, don't you?" she asked. Phil shook his head, but she knew that it was simply out of anger. Probably at his own feelings and his circumstance. "I'm gonna go." She told him, once more patting his back, before quietly leaving the room.

Phil paused in his packing. He took a deep breath. And another. And another.

In. Out. In. Out.

Just keep breathing.

* * *

Somewhere in Germany, Hawkeye lined up the shot, breathing deeply. He released the string.

The target screamed as the arrow went through his arm. Hawkeye quickly restrung his bow, bringing it back up and releasing another arrow.

The screaming stopped.

He relaxed his arms, letting the bow lean against his side. Pulling away from the edge of the building, he leaned his head against the brick of the chimney. He took more deep breathes.

Hawkeye. The shot that never missed.

He spun, leaning his back against the chimney and sliding down to sit. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his legs. Leaning his forehead against his knees he breathed.

In. Out. In. Out.

Just keep breathing.

Everything will be okay.

His attempts at remaining calm were interrupted by vibrations against his leg. He blinked blearily, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Hawkeye." He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, tiredly waiting for the reply.

"Ve 'ave a job vor you." A thick German accent blasted in his ear the minute he put the phone to his ear. Hawkeye rolled his eyes. Silently groaning. 'Kaz' was his main hit suppilier. He always wanted someone to be killed.

"Can't." he stated shortly. "Busy. Maybe later." He hung up. He had other things to worry about right now. Kaz could wait.

He just had to breath.

In. Out. In. Out.

* * *

Kaz stared silently at his phone. His associates stared at him. Kaz slowly smiled.

"Vell voys. It appears zat 'awkeye is no longer an azet to us." He waved them away, and they started to grab weapons from the area around them.

"Take 'im out."


	7. Chapter 7

_But mama I'm in love with a criminal_  
And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical  
Mama please don't cry, I will be alright  
All reason aside I just can't deny, love the guy

"Director." The man nodded from across the screen. Fury nodded back. "Kazamaro Hirsch's best hitman has declined the most recent offer. Kazarmaro sent a hitman after Hawkeye. This happened yesterday. I will contact you with an update next week." Fury nodded, shutting the monitor.

"Director! You have to tell Coulson!" She immediately clamped a hand over her mouth. Too late, Fury spun around to face her.

"And why should I do that Agent Hill?" he questioned. Hill swallowed hard.

"Director…" she stated weakly. He shook his head.

"Don't." he sighed, running a hand over his head. He turned to one of the other agents loitering around. "Connect to Agent Coulson. Let me tell him he is back on the Hawkeye case."

* * *

He would be taking a commercial flight into Italy and then take a private plane and various other means of transportation to get to the district housing the drug lord. He had a nice set of files to read during his trip, all about the drug lord.

Nine hours into his flight, Coulson was pulled from his files.

"Attention. My apologies, but a sudden storm has formed directly in our path to Italy, we will be making a pit stop in Germany to regain enough fuel to make it to all the way to Italy."

Coulson blinked, eyes narrowing. That made no sense. Commercial flights usually had a bit over the amount of fuel needed to get to the destination, and Germany was only a few hundred miles difference from Italy. Atleast, the part of Italy this flight was assigned to.

"Mr. Coulson, a phone call." The stewardess politely held out the on-flight phone. He took it, holding it to his ear.

"Director?" he asked smoothly.

"You're back on the Hawkeye case. Our informant with the drug dealer Kazamaro Hirsch learned that Hawkeye declined a hit."

Coulson's blood froze.

"So, a hit was taken out on him." He guessed. He could almost sense Fury's narrowing eyes.

"Yes…" a deep sigh was heard. "Coulson, I have many good reasons to doubt your loyalty. But, for now, I won't. Bring him back for jail time, or, if necessary, death."

Coulson opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a dial tone reached his ear.

So, it wasn't up for discussion then.

* * *

Hawkeye eased into a crouch, ready to take another shot. He lined up his bow to the door, waiting for it to open.

Waiting.

Waiting.

It opened.

"Hello Clint."

He released the string, and the arrow went flying, embedding itself into the threshold of the door. His target glanced up with wide eyes and then slammed the door shut.

Hawkeye spun, restringing his bow to stare at Agent Coulson. The man merely blinked at the arrow tip lined up to his nose.

"You." Hawkeye stated shortly, "Tell me why I shouldn't put an arrow through your eye socket?" he asked brightly. Coulson's lips twitched at the sarcasm he could sense. "You not only ruined my hit, but you are probably here to take me to jail." Coulson shook his head.

"Actually, I'm not. I'm here to offer you protection. In two different forms, it's up to you. You could go to jail. Or, you could join SHIELD and work on missions where your morals aren't tested." Coulson shared. Hawkeye's eyes narrowed.

"Protection from what?" he questioned suspiciously. Coulson frowned.

"Our informants tell us a man named Kazamaro Hirsch has taken out a hit on you. There are German assassins tripping over themselves to fulfill the hit and get the very high reward." Hawkeye let his bow drop.

"Son of a bitch! That traitourous, back-stabbing bastard!" That, that freak out was all Clint. "I can not believe this jackass! After all I've done for him, I decline one job and that's it!" he snapped. It was a rhetorical question, but Phil answered it anyway.

"That is how the hitman business works Clint. But it doesn't have to be that way. SHIELD is deploying their best agents to track down the hit men. Even before I found…an interest in you, Director Fury, my superior, has been interested in gaining your allegiance ever since you first starting taking out marks." Phil could see that his words were going through one ear and out the other. Clint's mind was somewhere else, and although he sincerely hoped otherwise, he knew exactly what he was thinking. "Clint!" he snapped.

"Hmmm…." Clint's eyes snapped to his briefly, before he gave a crazy grin. Phil made a grab for his arms, but Clint slipped easily away and threw himself over the side of the building, landing halfway down the fire escape. Phil leaned over the side of the building.

"You don't have to do this alone Clint! We can help! I can help!" he called, knowing that Clint could hear him, but knowing it was no use.

Clint. Stubborn, independent, easily offended Clint.

He was going after Kaz by himself.

Phil spun, hand immediately going to the comm in his ear.

"Director Fury, I need a team here, now."

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Agent Coulson could probably handle this.

Phil Coulson, on the other hand, was going to get an ulcer from stress.


	8. Chapter 8

_And he's got my name_  
Tattooed on his arm  
His lucky charm  
So I guess it's OK  
He's with me  
And I hear people talk (people talk)  
Try to make remarks  
Keep us apart  
But I don't even hear  
I don't care

"Well, Black Widow, you were right." Clint muttered, pacing back and forth. He paused for a moment, almost expecting her to drop from the ceiling at the mention of her name. Then he recalled that she had abandoned him, justifiably. She knew the way the hit business worked and so did he. He just ignored those laws.

Never ignore hit from a powerful source.

If someone took the time to choose you specifically for the job, when they had many other choices, then obviously if you declined they would take it as a personal offense.

"Stupid Kaz and his stupid drug ring and his stupid hitmen." Clint grumbled. He paused, taking a seat and taking deep breathes. "Okay. Bow, firearm, knives. All weapons on your body. Body armor, everywhere. You know where Kaz's base is. SHIELD has connections. They probably haven't moved out after you yet." Clint nodded to himself…

Hawkeye used what little body armor he had and covered his chest. Nothing for his arms or legs. It would just slow him down, and as a sniper there had been little need for body armor before this point. He hooked his bow over his back, slipping knives into sheathes hanging hidden on his body. and slipped a pair of handguns into their holsters on his hips.

"Time to move out." He declared to himself.

Hawkeye left his hideout, his nest, for the last time.

Clint made a decision about some job opportunities.

* * *

"Sitwell!" Coulson snapped. The man jumped, the gun he had been in the midst of assembling falling to pieces.

"Jesus Coulson, chill out! What is so different about this mission that it almost has you…what is this…nervous?"

Coulson really wanted to shoot the grin off of Sitwell's face.

"Move faster Sitwell. Hawkeye is moving out. We need to beat him to Kazamaro's location or else he could be injured or worse." Coulson explained. Sitwell snorted.

"So? He's a criminal!" Sitwell pointed out, but started assembling his gun faster. Coulson felt like scowling, so his lips twitched the smallest bit.

"Yes, but we are in the middle of negotiations. He is considering joining SHIELD." Or at least that is what Coulson hoped. Sitwell hummed, obviously surprised.

"Really? We've tried to draft him before, but failed, what's different this time?" Sitwell questioned. Coulson hesitated.

"Who knows how he thinks?" Coulson shrugged.

Enough people already questioned his loyalty. He wasn't having some smug, jerky fellow agent doing the same.

"Now hurry." Coulson commanded when Sitwell opened his mouth to say something else. Sitwell scowled, mumbling to himself but moved even faster.

Coulson released a breath in something that was almost a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Don't do anything stupid Clint." He murmured.

Phil Coulson worried about the man he was in love with.

Agent Coulson knew what he had to do.

* * *

Hawkeye ducked under the broken fence, eyes taking in everything. Four parking spots out of the five were filled. They hadn't left yet. They were still planning how to take down the elusive and cunning Hawkeye. He allowed a small, smug smirk to run on to his face.

He quickly scaled the fire escape. He had been at Kaz's warehouse before. He had noted the vents and the rafters that lined the ceiling. There would be some way to get in from the roof, he was sure of it.

Eyes scanning the roof, he noted the slightly misplaced roof tile. He grinned. Flipping it up, he jumped silently down on the rafter beneath. He looked down.

Kaz was surrounded by about twenty men. Nine men. Hawkeye could handle that. He silently drew his bow from his back, and strung an arrow. Kaz was first. Aiming carefully, he released his string.

An arrow landed directly in the middle of Kaz's forehead. The man fell.

All hell broke loose.

Hawkeye strung another arrow, but he didn't expect the other men to have such a quick reflex time. He rolled away from a barrage of bullets at they pinpointed his location within seconds.

Four men fell.

Another man fell.

Clint hissed between his teeth, clutching his shoulder as a bullet burned through it. He attempted to catch his balance, but failed. He started to fall from the rafter. He spun around in midair, managing to land on his hands and knees. His bones jarred uncomfortably and he gasped.

Clint turned, making a valiant attempt to grab his gun from his waist, but sixteen other men were pointing their guns at him already.

It was too late.


	9. Chapter 9

_'Cause mama I'm in love with a criminal_  
And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical  
Mama please don't cry, I will be alright  
All reason aside I just can't deny, I love the guy

The door cracked open as twenty men in suits came pouring in. Kaz's men turned their attention away from the fallen hawk. Hawkeye groaned, laying down on the floor as he focused all his attention on putting pressure on his shoulder.

Blood gushed between his fingers and he frowned at the warm, red liquid. He shook his head, turning his eyes to the fight.

Coulson's eyes scanned the warehouse. As his gaze landed on the man clutching his shoulder, he immediately abandoned the battle. He knew his team could handle this group. They would be put in custody or killed now. He had other things to worry about.

Dropping to his knees next to the man in pain, Phil scanned him for injury.

"You stay with me Barton. If you die, I may have to resurrect you just for putting me through all this." Phil snapped, removing his jacket to press down on the shoulder wound. He was extremely worried about how fast the blood reached through the cloth to his hands.

"You know, I never meant for any of this to happen Phil." Clint coughed, then winced as Phil pressed down even harder on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." Phil rolled his eyes.

"Don't you think you've reached the amount of idiocy you can accomplish in one day?" Phil asked. Clint offered a weak laugh.

"Nonsense. There is always a chance to be stupid." His eyelids fluttered a bit and Phil snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Hey! None of that!" he objected. "You stay awake. That's an order." Coulson declared. Clint snorted softly.

"Phil…I don't think that's gonna work." He murmured. Phil shook his head. He opened his mouth, but Clint beat him to it, "You should know though, that I never meant to use you for SHIELD. All those months I knew you before you were put on my case…I was being genuine in my actions towards you…I love you Phil." Clint blinked a few more times, eyes opening for a moment.

"I love you too, and when you stay awake and we fix up your shoulder, I'll show you just how much, okay?" Phil refrained from shaking the injured man when his eyes fluttered shut again. "Clint!" he snapped.

"Mmmmkay." Clint hummed, before his breathing evened out, no matter how shallow it was. A medic suddenly appeared over Phil's shoulder.

"We'll take it from here." The man took the jacket covering the wound from Coulson, all while keeping the pressure strong.

"He's suffering from great blood loss, but as far as I know, that is the only injury he currently sustains." Coulson stated. "He will be a great asset for SHIELD. He has agreed to join, so consider him an officially agent and treat him as such."

"Of course Agent Coulson." The man nodded.

Phil took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He turned to see Jasper's accusatory eyes and smirk.

"So, I guess we know why Hawkeye finally agreed to join SHIELD." He pointed out. Coulson gave him a dirty look and that shut him up for the entire flight back to New York.

* * *

"Congratulations Agent Coulson. You've captured the criminal, Hawkeye." Fury nodded at him. Coulson paused in his mad speed walk towards the med bay. He turned to Fury, eyes narrow.

"Yes, and SHIELD has a new agent." He said pointedly. Fury's narrowed eyes told him even more than the silence that followed. "That was what you said Fury. Kill him or draft him. I drafted him." Coulson stepped forward, closer to Fury.

"He has killed over a hundred people in the last three years Agent." Fury said in an almost gentle tone. "He has to serve for his crimes."

"And he will." Coulson pointed out. "There are programs for reformed criminals who are to become SHIELD agents. I know about them Fury. I helped create them." He stated. Fury sighed.

"He's not reformed though Coulson." Fury murmured. "He is a sharpshooter, an extremely intelligent one, he is probably using the system to avoid jail time…"

"He is the best shot out there today!" Coulson snapped, "I know him Fury. He has the ability to be reformed. He doesn't want to be an assassin. At least not one who kills nameless faces." Coulson calmed himself, returning to his normal stoic state. "With all due respect Director, I think that he has potential."

Fury eyed him carefully, before glancing through the window at med bay to look at the bandaged man.


	10. Chapter 10

_Mama I'm in love with a criminal_  
And this type of love isn't rational,  
It's physical  
Mama please don't cry, I will be alright  
All reason aside  
I just can't deny, love the guy

Clint blinked awake, groaning as his whole body hurt, specifically his chest and shoulder. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, accessing the surrounding area. It looked like a hospital, but the door was open and he could see that it was anything but. Men and women in black bustled by, some holding weapons, and some with paperwork.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. He remembered everything, of course. He hadn't got a hit on the head or anything. He knew he was probably at Phil's place of work and that it probably wasn't a good thing. Before he could conceive any escape plans, the light from the doorway was blackened out as a man stepped in the room.

"Hello Hawkeye." Clint tensed. He eyed the large man in the doorway. Nick Fury calmly walked in, stopping at his bedside. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Clint relaxed some.

"It is interesting. How you managed to turn my own agent, one of my most collected, loyal agents, into a panicking, untrustworthy man." Fury stated coolly. Clint bristled.

"Hey! Phil is one of the most trustworthy people I have ever met! Probably the  _only_ trustworthy person I have ever met." Clint snapped. Fury studied him and he crossed his arms.

Instantly he groaned, releasing his arms. He rubbed the bandage area of his chest. Fury nodded, looking much too happy about his pain to make Clint feel comfortable.

"You got shot. It-"

"I know." Clint cut him off stubbornly. Fury sighed.

"Of course Coulson would fall in love with an unruly jackass." He mumbled, and Clint narrowed his eyes. Before he could defend himself, Fury continued, "As I was saying, it almost killed you. Luckily enough for you, Coulson was quick and got you to the medical wing in time for them to remove the bullet and stitch up the wound. You're a lucky little son of bitch. The bullet somehow manage to avoid anything vital." Clint snorted.

"Don't feel lucky…" he murmured. Fury nodded, standing.

"Yeah. That will last for a few months. After that's healed up, you can start your field work." He turned and started leaving the room.

"Wait, what?" Clint leaned up, ignoring the twinge in his chest. Eyebrows furrowed, he waited. Fury snorted.

"It's either I give you a job or I lose one of my best agents. Unfortunately, this was the lesser of two evils." Fury told him, "Your handler will be here to go over your job description in a short amount of time." With that, he exited.

Clint leaned back, stunned. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Thinking turned out to be sleeping. He fell asleep and when he woke up, it was to soft kisses all over his face. He blinked awake, seeing Phil. He smiled brightly.

"Hey! Look who it is." He stretched, then immediately winced. Phil shook his head.

"Be careful. No sudden or strenuous movements." He advised. Clint nodded. He looked at the other man more carefully.

"What's wrong?" he questioned. Phil shook his head, before slowly burying his face in Clint's neck. Clint gave him a few moments of deep breathing.

"I thought you were dead. There was so much blood. It looked like you were going to die. It was horrifying…" Phil finally muttered after a few silent moments.

"I'm okay." He said softly. He still had some problems about trust to work out with Phil, but he had a feeling everything would work out in the end. "I swear." Phil released a deep sigh, before slowly pulling back.

"Okay-"

Clint pulled him back in, pressing their lips together. He felt the twitch of a smile pulling at Phil's lips and let his own grin show. After a few moments, Phil pulled back, expression stern. Clint gave him an innocent look.

" _Okay_. Agent Barton," Coulson smirked slightly, pulling a file from the bag at his feet, "As your handler, I will be giving you jobs to complete and assisting you throughout them. Your first job is an Italian drug lord…."

* * *

_Silence reigned._

_Not for long._

_"Holy crap, by the book Coulson actually did that?!" Tony questioned. Before either of them could comment on that, others started talking over him._

_"How did I not make those connections?" Natasha shook her head, pieces of a very obvious puzzle coming together in her head. "You never mentioned a name, but when we met years later I should have known the instant I met Coulson. I just thought it was a different man, a different agency." She started muttering Russian curses under her breath, annoyed with herself for not realizing sooner. Clint just laughed at her._

_"You were a criminal?" Steve blinked in surprise. "How long ago was this?" he asked warily._

_"Don't doubt him. It was over a decade ago." Phil snapped protectively. Steve held up his hands in surrender and Clint hooked an arm through Phil's nuzzling into his arm._

_"This story reminds me of the tale of the great warrior and the sly trickster. There once was a…" Whatever story Thor was beginning to tell was spoken over._

_"Everyone! Hold on!" Tony exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. He leaned forward, eyes and face serious. The others silenced and Phil and Clint looked to him expectantly._

_"After all this, when Legolas was bleeding out and Coulson said he would 'prove his love,' he meant sex right?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! Although, I am considering writing a prequel showing where Phil and Clint really fell in love. What do you guys think?


End file.
